


Keep You

by setepenre_set



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Alien Culture, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxanne attempts to court Megamind in the fashion of his home planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep You

“Minion,” Miss Ritchi says from the back seat of the invisible car.

“Yes, Miss Ritchi?” Minion asks.

He’s driving her home; the evil Plot of the day had malfunctioned—in a way that definitely wasn’t Minion’s fault! Sir’s blueprints are just so complicated sometimes, and it's hard to tell whether the little sketches he put in the corners were meant to be relevant to the plans or if they were just doodles. Apparently the strange wheel-y-ma-jig in the corner of the Typhoon Cheese Machine had been vitally essential.

Sir had been quite upset—not in the theatrical way that he put on sometimes for show, but quietly. He’d been embarrassed, hadn’t even scolded Minion for the mix-up.

Minion thinks Miss Ritchi must have noticed Sir’s mood, because she hadn’t been sarcastic at his expense at all, had actually suggested that she could wait until they managed to fix the machine. And when Sir had grimaced and admitted that he would need a week to build the missing part, she’d said—

“Well, I can’t stay a whole week.” She’d smiled gently. “I have got a job.”

Sir had glanced at her warily, as though he was searching for a hidden insult in the words.

“—but,” she’d continued, smile going conspiratorial, “there’s no reason why I can’t play hooky for one day. You want to watch a movie? Eat some popcorn? _Cheese_ popcorn, possibly? That powdered cheese smells _really_ good.”

—Minion had made them popcorn and left them to watch the movie—Miss Ritchi had chosen one of those golden-age musical comedies that Sir is so fond of; personally Minion likes a story he can sink his teeth into, none of that—champagne bubbles and dancing and frothy romance nonsense. He’d stayed close, in the kitchen, expecting, at any moment, to hear the sound of them arguing, of one or the other of them demanding that Miss Ritchi be taken home.

It wasn’t until the end of the movie, though, that he’d heard their voices. Minion had moved automatically to the movie room, getting ready to say _yes, Sir, of course, Miss Ritchi, time to go, certainly; I’ll start the car._

But—

But they hadn’t been arguing; they’d been standing up together, their arms around each other, laughing and—dancing? _Trying_ to dance anyway.

“—you’re leading again!” Sir said, “stop stepping forward like that!”

“Leading is easier!” Miss Ritchi had protested, laughing with him. “It’s not fair! I’m having to do everything backwards and in heels—”

“Fine, take off your shoes, then,” Sir had told her, “and switch hands—now put your other hand on my waist—my _waist_ , Miss Ritchi! You want to lead; do it properly! _I’m_ perfectly capable of dancing in heeled shoes—”

Miss Ritchi had kicked off her shoes and put her hand on Sir’s waist, then stepped forward.

“Ha! Yes, just like that!” Sir had said, unaware of Minion staring from the doorway as Miss Ritchi led him in a box step. “I told you it was easy!”

“It is now that I’m _leading_ ,” Miss Ritchi said, still snickering. “Try for a spin?”

“You’re the one leading; you have to decide,” Sir said. “If you want to spin me, you’re going to have to guide me—use your body to show me where you want me to go. I can follow, but you have to let me know what you want, first—”

Minion had quietly gone back to the kitchen.

“Miss Ritchi?” Minion prompts, now, in the car. “Did you need something?”

* * *

 

Roxanne stares down at her loosely tied wrists, remembering Megamind’s hands, looping the rope around them.

“Minion,” she says, “is—does—is Megamind—attracted to humans?”

She can tell Minion is startled by the way the car jumps forward, his foot pressing down on the gas suddenly.

She glances up to see him frowning at her in the rearview mirror.

“Why do you ask?” he says, his tone deeply suspicious.

Roxanne sighs and looks out the car window. This is the problem with being a reporter, she thinks, suddenly every question is a cause for suspicion.

“I was just wondering,” she says, “—Metro Man isn’t, so I thought—”

“Wait,” Minion says, “what? But you’re—how does—you dating him work, then?”

Roxanne rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t,” she says, “it never has. I’m not with him.” She glances sharply at Minion. “Don’t tell Megamind that, please.”

Minion’s reflection looks almost comically confused now.

“Why not?” he asks. “I’m sure Sir would stop kidnapping you if—”

“ _That’s why not_ ,” Roxanne says forcefully.

Minion blinks.

“—I don’t understand,” he says.

Roxanne groans and leans her head in her bound hands.

“That’s why I was wondering if Megamind is attracted to humans,” she admits.

“…I still don’t understand.”

Roxanne straightens up, looks at Minion, who really does still look confused.

She swallows, remembering sitting on the couch beside Megamind, hardly able to pay attention to the movie because of the way every molecule in her body felt like it was—pulling her towards him; remembers dancing with him, and the way he’d teased her for leading when she wasn’t meant to, remembers how she couldn’t seem to stop herself from stepping forward anyway, stepping toward him, even though she knew how the dance was supposed to go, because of the way her entire being was—thrumming with the certainty that she _needed to be closer to him._

“Minion, I really like him,” Roxanne says, voice a little desperate. “Do you think he would ever—do you think he would ever—want to be with me?”

“…uhh,” Minion says.

Roxanne grimaces. So that’s a no, then.

“—I mean,” Minion says, “he’s never—said anything—about it?”

So that’s a definite no, then.

Roxanne shuts her eyes, tells herself she isn’t going to cry, damn it.

“But!” Minion says, “b-but he might not! Say anything about it! If he was—if he was really serious about it. Sir is—I know it might seem like he is—really loud and—dramatic, but—when—when something really matters to him—”

“—he gets quiet,” Roxanne finishes slowly. “Yes, I’ve—I’ve noticed.”

Minion gives her a sharp look.

“ _Have_ you?” he asks. “That’s—interesting.” He hesitated, then plunged onward. “I don’t—I’m not—it’s hard for me to read pair bonding related behavior, you know? My species spawned, we didn’t really—get into all of that—romance stuff. So—but—based on—Sir’s cultural background—”

Roxanne saw Minion’s eyes widen in the mirror.

“It’s possible,” he continued, “I’d—it’s possible, but it’s hard to say, because he thinks you’re with Metro Man, and he’s always said it was about that, but—”

“—wait, hold on,” Roxanne says, “what are you talking about?”

* * *

 

Minion hesitates again. This—Sir is always talking about Miss Ritchi’s ability to get him to reveal sensitive information, and this is—potentially very, very sensitive, if Sir really does feel—romantically inclined towards Miss Ritchi.

And it’s possible that she’s lying about—her feelings, in an attempt to get this information and—do something damaging with it…

But Miss Ritchi has never struck Minion as the type to do something like that, even—especially? _especially_ , actually; that’s an interesting realization—to Sir.

She mocks him, sometimes, but she could be—a lot crueler, in her reports about him. That time Minion got trapped in one of the battlesuits when it collapsed and almost got crushed to death, Sir had a panic attack in front of her, that day. He’d been frantic, tears running down his face, when he finally tore the last sheet of metal away from from Minion, when he’d pulled Minion out into the air, but the only thing Miss Ritchi had said was—

“—is he all right? Megamind, tell me he’s all right!”

—and she hadn’t even mentioned the incident again, no mockery in her report, no words of scorn for Sir later. He’d cried in front of her, and she hadn’t told anyone or used it against him at all. That’s—that’s significant, right? That’s indicative of—

—oh, pair bonding behavior is so damn complicated!

And—and the thing with the popcorn and the movie, today, and not making fun of Sir for the evil Plot falling through—she’s been—doing a lot of stuff like that, lately.

Maybe she really—

(Minion remembers the two of them dancing in each other’s arms, laughing. They had looked—a lot like the couples in those romantic movies Sir likes so much—)

“Okay, Miss Ritchi,” Minion says, “I need you to promise me that you won’t—use any of what I’m about to tell you against him, all right? This is—this is important; I will be _very disappointed in you_ if you let me down on this.”

“I promise,” Miss Ritchi says quietly. “It’s—Minion, this is important to me, too. I’m not going to hurt him with this.”

“All right,” Minion says, “well. The M’ega—that’s—that’s the name of the species Sir is—”

“He named himself after his people?” Miss Ritchi says, and Minion glances at her sharply, going tense, waiting for the laughter.

But her tone isn’t amused or scornful; she sounds—soft.

“Yes,” Minion says, and decides he might as well tell her the whole of it, since he’s committed to this—very dangerous plan of disclosure. “Our planet—got destroyed; nobody but us made it out alive; I think he felt he needed to—make sure they were remembered, somehow. I don’t know; names were a very personal choice for his species. Anyway. The M’ega had a—a tradition, an—instinct, I think—of courting behavior.”

“—all right,” Miss Ritchi says.

Minion flutters his fins, making his robotic fingers drum themselves on the steering wheel.

“It involved a lot of—display, calling attention to—certain—eroticized physical features: the neck, the shoulders, the head, the ears, sometimes.”

Miss Ritchi’s eyes go wide in the mirror.

“High collars?” she breathes, sounding hopeful. “Is that—”

“—I—I think it’s possible,” Minion says, “and, and maybe the shoulder array, too—I don’t know, but—and. And besides the display behaviors, there was—an—instinctual, I think—pattern of—ritualized kidnapping?”

Miss Ritchi’s eyes go even wider, her mouth falling open.

“—they’d ‘kidnap’ their prospective mates, but it was—like I said, a social—it was always very—polite, and, and—then they’d—attempt to demonstrate their—intelligence, their ability to keep the person they loved safe—”

“Deathtraps?” Miss Ritchi says breathlessly. “Is that what—”

“I don’t know! I don’t know—he always says it’s about Metro Man, and it’s possible that he sees him as a rival for your affections, but—”

“—but,” Miss Ritchi says, swallowing, face falling a little, “but it’s possible that it’s really not about me at all, that he only kidnaps me to get to Metro Man—”

“I’m sorry!” Minion says, moving agitatedly in the headpiece of his suit. “I just—I don’t know, Miss Ritchi!”

“Okay,” she says, “okay. Well. I—what if—there’s a way to test that, isn’t there?”

“Is there?” Minion asks. He’s not good with plans; he’s good with following instructions, and with reassurance and emotional support. He’s a Minion; not a M’ega—

“Yes,” Miss Ritchi says. She swallows. “You tell Megamind that I’m not dating Metro Man—don’t tell him that I told you that, tell him that you found out about it somehow—”

“Oh!” Minion does a flip in the headpiece. “And we’ll see if he kidnaps you anyway!”

“Exactly,” Miss Ritchi nods firmly, her face pale and determined. “Exactly, and then we’ll know.”

* * *

 

When a month passes without any—any moves from Megamind, any further kidnappings, Roxanne swallows down her disappointment (it feels sharp-edged, in her throat, her chest, as though what she’s actually swallowing is broken glass).

Well, she thinks. I guess we know.

* * *

 

“Miss Ritchi!” Minion says, when she lets him into her apartment.

“Minion?” she says. “What are you doing here?”

(Has he come to kidnap her; has Megamind sent him, has—)

“Miss Ritchi, this was a bad idea!” Minion says, moving agitatedly in the helmet of the robot suit.

Roxanne’s heart falls.

“Yeah,” she says. “I know.”

She scrubs a hand through her hair—god, she needs to wash it; she just—it’s just seemed like so much work, lately. Too much effort; not worth it. She should probably be embarrassed about the state of her apartment, too, but—yeah, she really can’t bring herself to care.

Roxanne laughs, sort of tearfully.

“I mean, at least I got to see him, before,” she says. “Now—I should have just left it well enough alone; of course he doesn’t—”

“He’s miserable,” Minion says flatly. “He hasn’t gotten out of his pajamas for a week.” He eyes Roxanne’s attire speculatively; she wraps her ratty robe around herself a little tighter. “He doesn’t scheme any more; he barely eats; he hardly sleeps. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out the way we wanted, with the two of you, but you need to fix this, Miss Ritchi!”

Roxanne blinks.

Okay.

So Megamind—hasn’t kidnapped her, like he should have, if he was interested in her, but—

Okay, but—

Minion’s description of his behavior is—

Well, it’s strikingly similar to what’s been going on with her, actually, ever since she decided she didn’t have a chance with Megamind after all.

So—

Maybe he’s just thinking the ‘game’ is ruined, now that it turns out that Metro Man doesn’t have a girlfriend he can use as bait, but—

“Minion,” Roxanne says, taking hold of the back of the couch, using it to anchor herself. “I have an _extremely important question_. When you told Megamind that I wasn’t dating Metro Man, did you tell him that I broke up with Metro Man? Or that I never dated him?”

“That you never dated him!” Minion says, pacing, gathering up dirty dishes from the coffee table in a way that looks automatic. “That’s what you said; I wasn’t going to lie to him for no reason!”

Roxanne closes her eyes, takes a deep breath through her nose.

So. This means that Megamind isn’t upset that his game is ruined. If she was never dating Metro Man and she was still worked as bait for him, then logically, Megamind knowing that she’s not with Metro Man shouldn’t change his behavior. The game can’t be ruined, because the game hasn’t actually changed; he just understands it better now.

Therefore, the most obvious conclusion Roxanne can draw here is that Megamind has stopped kidnapping her for—some other reason. What other reason? It’s possible he’s embarrassed at not realizing she wasn’t with Metro Man, that he’s—ashamed of drawing an erroneous conclusion. Yes, that’s possible.  
It’s also possible that he—feels he no longer has an excuse to kidnap her, an excuse to see her, and that’s what’s making him upset.

Does he—does he not know that she wants him? Is that—Megamind—he talks big, ‘incredibly handsome’, and all that, but—

Roxanne has seen his face, when the crowd boos at him, when somebody shouts _ugly alien freak_ , and she thinks—

—she thinks most of his apparent confidence isn’t really confidence, is—some sort of defense mechanism, actually—

She opens her eyes.

Two possibilities. One: Megamind feels stupid. Two: Megamind loves her, too, and doesn’t think he has a chance with her.

(no use asking Minion which he thinks it is; Minion’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t understand any of this, and she doesn’t want him to feel worse about that than he obviously already does.)

All right. She’s going to fix this.

How is she going to fix this; how is she going to manage to confront him when he won’t kidnap her, when he won’t—his mating instincts, why won’t he—

(Megamind, laughing in her arms as she led him in that dance, the last time they were together—)

_(show me where you want me to go. I can follow, but you have to let me know what you want, first—)_

“Minion,” Roxanne says slowly, “were the M’ega courting behaviors gendered?”

“What?” Minion says, pausing with a cup of congealed cocoa in his robotic hand. “Gendered?”

“Yes,” Roxanne says, “was it—always the male partner who was the—active participant in all of the—?”

“Oh!” Minion says, “No. Gender was actually a lot more complicated for them; there weren’t just—“

“Excellent,” Roxanne says, straightening her spine and flipping the collar of her robe up, a slightly manic smile curving the edges of her mouth.

(she feels better than she has in weeks)

“I have a Plan,” she says, steepling her fingers together.

* * *

 

“Wayne, you will help me with this, or I swear to god, I will find someone else who will,” Roxanne says, voice steely.

“Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me that!” Wayne hisses, covering his ears. “Damn it, Roxanne, blackmail is illegal!”

“Ugh! Stop being such a—fucking goody-two-shoes, you gigantic useless lump!” Roxanne cries. “I said I need your help! Don’t I get any consideration for being your fake girlfriend for seven goddamn years?”

“I HAVE DECIDED THAT YOU’RE JOKING,” Wayne says loudly, “HA HA HA THAT’S A FUNNY JOKE, ROXANNE, BECAUSE _OBVIOUSLY YOU WOULD NEVER BLACKMAIL ANYONE_. I’M GONNA GO NOW!”

“Coward!” Roxanne shouts, leaning over the balcony. “Wet blanket! You—your costume looks stupid and you have terrible! taste! in music!”

Across the street, someone on their own balcony stares, wide-eyed, at the crazy woman screaming at thin air.

Roxanne growls and stalks back into her apartment.

Right. Time to fight dirty.

* * *

 

“Oh, I certainly agree,” Lady Scott says, nibbling delicately on a buttered scone, “Wayne should absolutely step down as the city’s Defender as soon as possible; he hasn’t really been happy in his current career for years.” She takes a sip of tea. “But of course he would never be willing to retire while his arch nemesis was still engaged in supervillainy.” She puts down her teacup, picks up her scone once more. “And you think this will—encourage your— _friend_ —to take his life in a different direction?”

“Yes,” Roxanne says firmly.

(she isn’t completely sure, but—judging from some offhand comments that Megamind has made over the years, from some things Minion has recently told her—she really thinks maybe Megamind isn’t quite as happy with villainy as he’s always appeared. Another defense mechanism, the thinks. Like the false confidence.)

“Well, you know him best, dear,” Lady Scott says pleasantly, expression bland, and it shouldn’t make Roxanne blush, the way she says it, but somehow it does, anyway.

Roxanne lifts her chin. She is not ashamed of this.

Lady Scott smiles.

“Citizenship, full pardon—” Lady Scott adds a spoonful of sugar to her tea, stirs it, takes a sip. “Yes, that seems like it should cover it. But I really don’t think you want to blackmail the Mayor of Metro City for them.”

Roxanne opens her mouth to assure her that _yes, she goddamn well does_ , but—

“Much better to blackmail the Governor of Michigan, don’t you think?” Lady Scott says with a tinkling laugh.

Roxanne closes her mouth.

“Yes,” Lady Scott says. “Did I ever tell you that I was a secretary before I married my husband? Such interesting things people say in front of their secretaries. Especially secretaries who seem,” she raises perfect eyebrows, “a little naive and a trifle—stupid, shall we say?”

She takes another delicate bite from her scone.

Roxanne smiles hard and sharp and tears into her own pastry with vicious satisfaction.

(Wayne’s mother always _was_ the best thing about being his pretend girlfriend.)

* * *

 

“Okay,” Minion says into the phone as he starts the invisible car. “Okay, Miss Ritchi, I’m going out for the day.”

“Good,” Miss Ritchi’s voice comes through the line. “I’m already here.”

Minion flutters nervously in his bowl.

Ohhh this is—terrifying—

“Good luck, Miss Ritchi,” he blurts. “I—I really hope this works.”

“Thank you, Minion,” Miss Ritchi says. “So do I.”

The line goes dead and Minion pulls out of the Lair.

* * *

 

When Megamind wakes up tied to a chair, his first instinct is to panic.

He’s blindfolded; his wrists have been secured to the armrests of the chair, his ankles to the legs of the chair. He can hear the sound of a central air system, of what he thinks is the hum of a refridgerator (is this—someone’s—home? is he in someone’s home?)—

—and he can hear the sound of someone breathing.

Fuck, he needs to get out of these goddamn restraints—

He arches his back suddenly, straining against the ropes, but the knots hold; whoever tied him clearly knows what they’re doing—

Someone’s hand on his face, suddenly. He flinches away, but they take hold of his chin, pull the blindfold off of his eyes.

Megamind blinks in the sudden light, and then blinks again because—

Roxanne? Is—standing over him? Her left hand is still on his face and his blindfold is in the other and—

“—what.” Megamind says weakly.

Roxanne smirks at him, slow and wide, a—predatory smile that makes Megamind shiver in spite of himself.

She steps back from him, tosses the blindfold aside, and Megamind notices for the first time what she is wearing.

Holy.

Fuck.

Okay, that’s—is he dreaming? Is this some sort of, of pathetic fantasy that his sleep-deprived mind and desperate heart have conjured up to torture him with?

She’s wearing _blue_ , a blue dress with a _very_ short skirt and a _very high collar_. It goes up in the back, framing her head, and plunges down in the front, revealing her throat and her clavicle.

God, oh god, her ears; she has some sort of—metal cuff things on the rims of her ears, framing them, ending in scalloped points at the top of her ears.

(like his—they’re. _they’re shaped like his ears_ )

“Megamind,” Roxanne says, and he tries to say something in response but. she. is.

oh god.

“You’ve _officially_ been kidnapped,” Roxanne tells him, and lifts her hands to the clasp of her dress collar.

* * *

 

Roxanne unclasps the collar with shaking hands, peels the tall, upstanding portion of the collar off and puts it down on her coffee table.

Fuck. Is she doing this right? Megamind is just staring at her, sort of blankly; she can’t tell if it’s out of shock or if he’s confused because she’s doing this wrong, but—

She trails her hand down the side of her throat, arches her neck, bending it to the side.

Megamind’s eyes go wide.

Okay. Okay, so that—signal appears to have worked.

She takes a breath, heart fluttering.

“You know, I wasn’t really sure how to go about this,” she says. “Not the kidnapping; that part was fairly simple. You really should be more careful with your bottles of knock-out spray, Megamind. You can’t just leave stuff like that lying around the Lair; anyone could wander in and find it.” She smiles at his expression. “—and I’m good with ropes; you may have noticed. I do have a lot of experience with them, after all.”

“Ah?” Megamind says blankly.

Roxanne’s heart knocks painfully against her ribs.

“It was the rest of it I had some trouble with,” she says. “I mean, how was I supposed to show you that I was smart enough for you? You’re—you’re _you_. No one on the planet is as smart as you are! And how was I supposed to show you that I can keep you safe? I can’t—design brainbots or lasers or deathtraps; I don’t own any alligators, and I’ve never built a giant robot!”

Megamind’s eyes are larger than she’s ever seen them before, his lips parted. Roxanne hurries on, forcing the words out. She is going to say this, damn it.

“So I asked Minion, and he told me—he told me that you aren’t—that the two of you aren’t citizens, that every time you get sent back to prison, there’s a risk of you being—of you disappearing into some government lab. And that’s not—and—Megamind, if I told you I had a way to, to keep that from ever happening, to fix things so that you don’t—have to be a supervillain anymore—because _I don’t think you’re happy like this_ , Megamind, and I want you to—you deserve to be _happy_ —and to be _safe_ and—I can—make sure Metro Man steps down from his post as the city’s hero—Megamind, please, even if you don’t want me, please will you let me do this for you? I just—I just want you to be safe—”

Megamind stares at her, his expression unchanged.

Roxanne feels tears rising in her eyes, and wipes them away savagely, probably smearing her eyeliner. She gives a watery laugh.

“God, I’m shit at this monologue thing, aren’t I?” she says. “Anyway, I love you. So. I blackmailed the Governor into giving you and Minion full citizenship and unconditional pardons.”

She reaches out and swiftly unties the knot in the rope holding his right hand to the chair, then picks up the paperwork and pen from the coffee table and places them in his lap.

“Full citizenship; unconditional pardon,” she says, losing her battle against her tears and avoiding his eyes—he’s just staring at her, just staring; she’s miscalculated; she should have known he couldn’t really want her, shouldn’t have allowed herself to hope. “Minion already signed it; you just have to—please, please sign it, Megamind—”

She drops down onto the couch, her head in her hands. God, fuck her, fuck—fuck everything.

She hears Megamind untying the ropes, hears him stand—hopefully he’ll just sign the papers and leave, hopefully he won’t feel like he—owes her an explanation; she doesn’t want to have to hear him let her down easy, she just wants to cry for a year and then sleep for several years and—

A soft touch on her hair. Roxanne looks up (she cannot help herself). Megamind is standing in front of her, looking down at her, his expression soft-edged (god; she’s so pathetic; he feels sorry for her—)

“You—you love me?” he asks.

“—please sign the papers,” Roxanne says in a small voice, looking down at her hands, clenched on her knees now. A tear splatters on the back of the right one.

Megamind drops to his knees in front of her, puts the papers down on the coffee table, glances briefly at them, the scribbles his name quickly at the bottom of both sheets.

Roxanne gives a sob of relief and he tosses down the pen, reaching up to cup her face in his hands.

She freezes, stops breathing—he’s—

“You love me?” he asks again, and his hands are shaking; Roxanne can feel it. “Roxanne, please—”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, I love you.”

Megamind makes a noise that sounds almost hurt, and then he surges upward, hands sliding into her hair and mouth crashing into hers.

It’s probably not a very good kiss, objectively speaking: it’s a little too hard and he doesn’t really seem to know what he’s doing; she’s crying, he’s shaking—

 _Subjectively_ speaking, it’s the best kiss of Roxanne’s life.

She ends up, somehow, in his lap, on the floor; he knocks his elbow into her coffee table when he tries to wrap his arm around her waist, hisses in pain, and then laughs breathlessly.

“—god, Roxanne, I love you, too,” he says, managing to slide his arm around her on the second try. “I love you, too, and I never thought—”

He kisses her again, strokes his fingers through her hair, down the back of her neck.

“—am I doing this right?” he asks, breaking the kiss. “I’ve never—I want to—”

_(I can follow, but you have to let me know what you want, first—)_

Roxanne makes a soft sound of joy—god, she loves him—

And pushes him down onto the floor.

* * *

 

“You _blackmailed a government official for me_ ,” Megamind says wonderingly, later, both of them lying on the floor still, Roxanne’s head on his shoulder.

Roxanne laughs.

“I should have known _that_ would impress you,” she said.

“It does! It’s very impressive! You’re—you’re very impressive!”

Roxanne sits up, leans over him, hand on his chest, fingertips at the base of his throat.

He smiles up at her, the most genuinely happy smile she has ever seen on anyone’s face, ever.

“I had—to keep you safe,” she says around the lump in her throat. “I’m going to _keep you safe_ , Megamind; I’m going to _keep you_ —” she cuts herself off, unable to go on.

“Yes,” Megamind says, reaching up to touch her cheek with his fingertips, wonder in his face. “Yes, please—please do.”


End file.
